


Socks in a Box

by wowbright



Series: Glee Season 5 episode reactions [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Reaction, Episode: s05e14 New New York, Established Relationship, M/M, klaine fluff, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt helps Blaine pack and gets flustered by his sock collection. Or, sometimes the most frustrating thing about a relationship is yourself. New New York (5.14) episode reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Socks in a Box

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/82096554097/fic-socks-in-a-box-klaine-pg). Thanks to chiasmuslovesme and nachochang for the look-over!

Kurt becomes suddenly, irrationally angry the night before Blaine moves out. Kurt is in their room (well, his room, really – he needs to start thinking of it as his room again, just like he did for all those months, right up until the moment that Blaine decided to move out and Kurt suddenly became comfortable with thinking of it as _theirs_ ). He’s folding Blaine’s things into boxes, and Blaine in the kitchen, making a vanilla-and-cinnamon concoction with the SodaStream machine to flavor their nightly warm milk.

It’s not the noise of the machine that sets Kurt off; in the past week, he’s developed a certain affection for it. Even the things that annoy you about the person you love develop an endearing quality when you know those things won’t be a daily part of your existence anymore – or not for a while, at least.

And it’s not the fact that Kurt is alone in the room, packing Blaine’s stuff without Blaine’s assistance. Categorizing things into boxes is one of Kurt’s favorite activities, but it’s hard to do while chatting away with your fiance. Alone, Kurt can focus on the process, enter a meditative state where everything clicks and he understands how to fit it all together.

But then Kurt gets to the socks. The socks that don’t make any sense. Because there are _so many_ of them, and how can that be, because Blaine hardly ever wears socks. There are argyle ones and striped ones and polka-dotted ones, and formal black calf-socks, and gold-toe athletic socks in crew and ankle lengths. There are fishnet thigh-highs (okay, well _those_ make sense, although if Kurt were in charge of organizing Blaine’s wardrobe he would keep those with the underwear, not the socks). There are woolen hiking socks even though Blaine never goes hiking, and slipper socks for padding around the loft on winter mornings even though Blaine usually wears _actual slippers_.

How has Kurt lived with Blaine for so many months and not realized how many socks he owned?

And why are none of them light blue?

Kurt tries to fit them into a large boot box. All the other boxes are much too large, and this one should be plenty of room anyway. Kurt’s entire sock collection could fit in a boot box, and he actually _wears_ his socks. He layers Blaine’s collection in neat rows, taking the opportunity to sort them by type and color as he does so.

And Kurt manages to get them all in the box. Well, almost. If you don’t count the big mountain of tube socks overflowing from the top, preventing him from getting the lid anywhere near closed. There are two inches of tube socks separating the box from its lid – an entirely unexpected development.

Kurt tries again, rearranging the order and refolding the tube socks into tighter pairs.

He’s still left with seven pairs that absolutely. Will. Not. Fit.

So he tries again, because Kurt Hummel is a master at putting things into their place and he will do so if it kills him. He folds them more tightly, squishing every bit of air out between them (and usually he would show more respect toward clothing, but these are just _socks_ that Blaine never even _wears_ and they are mocking them and he is going to make them fit). They’re packed so tightly that it’s almost impossible to tell where one sock ends and the other begins.

This time, there are _eight_ pairs leftover when the box is full.

It occurs to Kurt that maybe he could put those eight extra pairs into another box – use them as cushioning for Blaine’s action figures, or stuff them inside Blaine’s guitar as a practical joke – but he doesn’t want to. Socks belong together. And he is going to make them fit, and they are going to be happy about it, and _Christ on a cracker why does Blaine own so many socks?_ Seriously, when they get an apartment of their own, they’re either going to have to downsize their wardrobes or find a place with two walk-in closets – _if_ they ever even get an apartment on their own, because _nothing_ wants to go according to the plans they made the spring they fell in love, does it? Nothing wants to go according to _any_ of Kurt’s plans.

But these socks will. He’ll make sure of it.

It’s after his fifth failed attempt that he picks out the ugliest pair of tube socks and flings them at the wall with a “Goddamn foot-sheathing bastards!” They bounce off the bricks and land on the bed pillows.

“Kurt?” Blaine calls hesitantly from the kitchen.

Oops. Kurt hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Footsteps. Then Blaine peering through the curtain that serves as their door. (No, _Kurt’s_ door.)

“Are you okay?” Blaine says.

“Of course I’m not okay. Your socks _hate_ me.”

Blaine steps through the curtain. “My socks?”

Kurt should tell him to go away. When he gets like this, it’s often best just to be alone until he can think straight. But he doesn’t. Instead, he picks up a handful of the offending socks – the ones that wouldn’t fit in the box – and waves them in his fists. “They won’t go in the box! I had a plan, and they’re mocking me, and why do you own so many socks anyway? How are we ever going to find a place of our own that will fit all of these _socks,_ Blaine? We can’t afford that many walk-in closets!”

A week ago, Blaine would have shouted back. He would have pointed out that Kurt’s more-than-ample couture collection takes up a hell of a lot more room, not to mention his _furniture_ that Blaine had absolutely no say in, and since he obviously can’t do _anything_ right, why doesn’t Kurt just run off to his boyfriend Elliott and shack up with him in his little shoebox of an apartment?

Kurt braces himself for it, but it doesn’t come.

“Is that really what’s upsetting you?” Blaine says patiently. “That I have too many socks?”

And something about the tone of Blaine’s voice – Kurt thought what he needed was a fight and maybe some angry make-up sex, but apparently what he needed was this. The tension shudders from Kurt’s body. “I don’t know.” Kurt steps toward the curtain and tugs at Blaine’s hand. “If I’m angry at your socks, it probably means I need a hug.”

Blaine makes a small, questioning smile and opens his arms. Kurt falls into them.

This is what he needs right now: Blaine’s body, warm and solid against his. A love so tangible he can feel it as surely as he can feel Blaine’s arms around his waist.

“You _do_ have a lot of socks, though,” Kurt mutters into Blaine’s neck.

“Yeah?”

“You have more than I do. And I actually _wear_ socks.”

Blaine smiles against Kurt’s neck. “Well, I’ve worn all of them at least once. And once you’ve worn a pair of socks, it’s not like you can give them away. That’s kind of … gross.”

“You could make them into sock puppets.” Kurt steps away from the hug and pulls Blaine with him to the bed. They sit side-by-side, Kurt’s head leaning on Blaine’s shoulder. Usually it’s the other way around, but this feels right today. “No. I just wanted them to all fit in the box, and they wouldn’t, and it just makes me mad, because socks _belong_ together –”

Blaine shifts his weight on the bed, and his eyebrows furrow so deeply in thought that the little triangle points at the top go flat. “Is this about me moving out, Kurt? Are we the socks?”

“Maybe.” Because they are and they aren’t. “I planned everything a certain way and it’s not going according to plan.”

“Are you angry at me for moving out?” Blaine says it quietly, but without the hint of fear that usually laces his voice when he thinks Kurt might be upset with him. It’s just a simple question: Blaine is asking for an answer, not for reassurance – and that in itself is comforting to Kurt.

Blaine is sitting right next to him, but Kurt feels like he has all the room in the world to breathe.

Kurt shakes his head. “No. I’m angry because –” He’s not sure where to start, but Blaine is holding his hand with just the right amount of firmness – not loose like he’s about to slip away but not so tight that it feels like suffocation – and he’s watching Kurt so patiently, waiting for him to find the words. So Kurt tries. “I’m angry that I couldn’t stop thinking of this room as _mine_ even after you’d lived here for months, but as soon as we decided you were going to move out, I couldn’t stop thinking of it as _ours._ I’m angry that all I’ve ever wanted to do is be with you and have a home with you but no matter how much I love you, I still want everything to be where I want it and that when things get moved around it confuses me. I’m angry that I need time alone every day and that I hate for people to touch my stuff, because if I love you it shouldn’t matter if you’re in my personal space, I should _want_ you to be in my personal space, I always thought that was what love _was_.”

“I did, too. But I think I was basing it mostly on Whitney Houston songs and Disney movies.”

“I was thinking more about the _Twilight_ series. _”_

Blaine doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He looks down at their joined hands, then up into Kurt’s eyes. “Well, neither of us are vampires,” he says with absolute sincerity.

“No,” Kurt says with just as much sincerity.

“And vampires are technically parasites, right? So maybe that means … they’re not exactly role models we should be aspiring to.”

“You could have a point.” Kurt feels himself smile for the first time since encountering Blaine’s socks this evening. “I always thought the werewolf was hotter, anyway.”

“And he’s a bit of a loner, isn’t he?”

“True.” Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand. “And he loves with all his heart. Even if he can’t be around other people all the time. He loves you so much.”

“I know.” Blaine smiles and kisses Kurt’s cheek, then pulls abruptly away. “Wait, you _are_  the werewolf, right?

Kut stifles a giggle. “Not literally. But you heard how I took my rage out on your poor hapless socks. There might be a little bit of werewolf in me.”

“Grrrrr,” Blaine says, and Kurt bursts out laughing.

*

Later that night, when they’re done giggling and packing and drinking warm, carbonated milk, Kurt pulls Blaine to him under the covers. “Why is it easier to be close to you when I know you’re moving away?”

Blaine turns and rests his cheek against Kurt’s shoulder. “I don’t know. It must have something to do with these mysterious boundaries that Elliott talks about.”

“It almost seems silly for you to move out at this point.”

Blaine draws a lazy circle on Kurt’s chest with his index finger. “Almost.”

“Almost, but not quite?”

Kurt feels Blaine nod _yes_ against his chest. “I feel –” Blaine starts. Kurt waits for him to continue, but there’s nothing except for Blaine’s soft breathing.

“What do you feel?”

Blaine sighs. “Less afraid. I’m used to being afraid of things Kurt. Especially of losing you.”

Kurt swallows heavily. “You’re not going to lose me, though. You know that, right?”

Blaine props himself up on one elbow, looks into Kurt’s eyes. The lamps are off in their room, but enough light is coming through the window that Kurt can see Blaine’s lashes flutter with each nod of Blaine’s _yes_.

“Kurt, I asked you to marry me because I was afraid of losing you. That’s not the best way to propose marriage to someone, and it’s not the best way to move in with them, either. With all that fear. But now – knowing that I can live apart from you and we can still be okay? I’m not as afraid. It makes me feel like I’m on the way to being ready to move in with you for the right reasons. And marry you for the right reasons. I think … fear is a lot of what drives us crazy.”

“The way I’m afraid all of our clothing won’t ever fit in one closet?”

Blaine smiles. “It might not. But I’m willing to figure that out when the time comes. Because my socks may be incorrigible, and there may not be a closet in the world that’s big enough for both our wardrobes, but we’ll always have enough room in our hearts for each other.”

Kurt giggles and kisses Blaine on the nose. “Marry me?”

“Soon, love. Soon.”


End file.
